Birth of a Saint
by Shadow182
Summary: "I would bring this city to it's knees, for him..." one girl's rise from a seemingly hopeless origin to be the woman a city feared and a gang revered.
1. First Kill

**Hey guys, welcome to my first ever SR fanfic. This was originally going to be a series of one shots that spanned SR1, 2 and 3rd, but It kind of just kept growing so I think I might split this up over a few stroies. I wanted to write a fict based on a female protagonist, and her story from SR1, how she grows and becomes the ass kciker she is in SR3rd.**

**I've tried to restrict just doing transcripts of cutscenes and include new stuff that happened inbetween. Sooo... yeah.**

**Haven't written anyting in a while so any feedback would we great. Enjoy :)**

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><p>My hands shook and rattled the last wisp of smoke from the gun. My cheeks felt tacky and saturated with tears as I watched Seth, a hand clutched over his chest, eyes bulging in shock and horror watching the blood seeping from between his fingers and under his palm. He shuddered, legs collapsing beneath him as he slid down the wall tracing a smear of crimson on the filthy paint behind him. I swallowed and watched the blood pool in the bullet hole in the plaster. I'd shot <em>through<em> him?

Seth sputtered, brilliant green eyes – which I had once thought so full of danger and passion – were now foreign and alien to me. Hollow and vacant, the eyes of a junkie. Blood sprayed from between his lips as he snarled and spat his last word at me.

"_Whore._"

A felt a white hot flash of fury and before I knew what I was doing, my trigger finger squeezed sharply, once, twice, again and again till the empty clip clicked dispassionately at me. Most of the shots had missed, bar two. One hit him in the shoulder, the other found a disturbing mark in his eye, spraying the wall behind and pouring blood and other… lumps… down his face.

I stared at him, my mind blank. I exhaled a breath I didn't know I'd been holding then rocked forward and retched over the filthy threadbare carpet.

Thankfully, the first kill is always the easiest.

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><p>An hour later and I was sitting on the floor of the shower, trying to get my head straight.<p>

I should feel sorry. I should feel horrified. I _killed_ someone. No, not just someone, my boyfriend. The guy I loved, who said he loved me, who said he wanted to marry me and die by my side.

_He said a lot of things…_

I was a fucking killer, a murderer, and for the rest of my life I always would be. But something was echoing in my mind,

_He had it coming…_

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. I didn't feel sorry, I felt powerful. I felt like, for the first time in my life I was in charge, of myself, my destiny, and of someone else's. I pictured Seth's face, with the bullet hole where his right eye should have been. I thought on what he had done to me, how he had lied to me, what life he had brought me into. That face morphed to my father's, my mothers, and melted into a myriad of others.

The pipes rattled the water pressure shuddered as the heat finally failed, raining down a cold blast on my shoulders. I yelped, woken from my stupor, and quickly reached to turn the taps off. Enough. Time to get moving.

'_I have nowhere to go,'_ I thought, mind suddenly pragmatic. Obviously no neighbour has called the cops, but in a neighbourhood like this gunfire was a constant backtrack to everyday life. _'But I can't stay,'_

There was every chance one of his 'friends' could be dropping by at any moment. I scrambled from the shower floor, rubbing my body dry with a hand towel (all the bath towels currently covering pools of blood and vomit). With a sigh I looked at myself in the mirror, milky skin now ashen, dark circles under my icy blue eyes, and ran a hand through my cropped black hair.

'_I liked my long hair…'_ I thought with a pout. Seth had made me saw it off when we came to Stillwater. I shaped it as best I could but never managed to get it looking more feminine.

Suddenly I heard a door click open –

"Seth, yo man, where a-"

_Fuck!_ One of his friends, they sounded hammered but considering the circumstances that wouldn't matter. I launched myself on a pile of clothes left in a heap on the bathroom floor, snagging a pair of baggy jeans and plain black shirt, yanking them over my half-dry body.

"Seth? You home or… oh _SHIT_!"

Time's up. I grabbed my sneakers and bra, gripping the laces and straps between my teeth as I made a moved for the window, pushing it open and squeezing my scrawny frame through it – a task made easier from having lived on Seth's diet of beer and cocaine for the past six months. I tumbled to the ground, jumping to my feet and dashing through the small yard, clambering over chain link fences till I hit the street.

Then, I just kept running. I ran till I breathed fire and my feet bled over the asphalt. I rushed past people, not caring if I shoved them out of the way, not caring when a trio clad in red yelled insults and threats after me. Soon I was clear of Shivington, stumbling through an alley in the Red Light district, crumpling to my knees in the rubbish and cardboard boxes, chest heaving. My throat burned and my eyes watered from the cold wind, I felt my vision swimming in front of me. I think I should have been crying but I didn't seem to have it in me.

In one short night I had shattered and was reborn here, in this filthy fucking alley, wearing my dead boyfriend's clothes, no home, no friends, no money, no ID. I was tangible, but somehow I didn't exist. I'd probably wind up one of those nameless, faceless hobos that were found frozen under bridges in the winter.

In a week this fact would be strangely liberating, but at the moment I just felt hopeless.

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><p>Two nights later and I was sauntering down a street in The Row. I'd managed to steal a little food to keep myself going but it didn't change my situation. I was just grateful none of Seth's old friends had managed to find me.<p>

A hooker in red draped herself in a doorway, sneering at the back of a John who passed her by.

"Hey hun," she said sweetly to me (no doubt noticing my bedraggled appearance), "Don't suppose you lookin' for work?"

I blinked – _no_, I wasn't. But the proposition gave me thought; what _was_ I going to do for money?

"Oh _hell _no!"

My head snapped around as I heard the voice – it was frighteningly familiar, and for a moment I thought it was someone looking for me. Instead, I saw three thugs dressed in yellow, snarling and waving at a large Rollerz tag on the wall.

"Man, _fuck_ the Rollerz," Another continued. The one in the middle… the familiar one, turned to the thug on his left.

"Lavar, you gonna let those bitches disrespect us?"

"Shit, whatchoo think?" The one named Lavar replied, rattling a spray can and starting to paint the wall.

'_Vice Kings'_ I thought, and bit my lip. I'd only had one, far too intimate encounter with the VK before. Around me people were discreetly vacating the area – live in Stillwater long enough and you get a sixth sense about these things.

But I was busy trying to place the guy in the middle, not wanted to admit to myself where I had seen him before, when three guys dressed in blue staunched up to the others who were busy spraying over the tag.

"Tha fuck you think you doin'?" One of the Rollerz accused. The VK turned to look at them darkly.

"Just being civic-minded is all," one replied.

"That so?"

"Yeah, some dumbass cracker went and shit all over this wall, we just cleanin' it up."

And the thin string holding them all back snapped. The Rollerz threw the first punch but then it was a mess of fists and knives. I edged backwards, the hooker next to me too scared to move. One of the Rollerz took a heavy hit from a VK, and valiantly ran away, abandoning his friends and shoving past me. I heard the roar of a car engine the same moment the bangers did, pausing in their melee as a red convertible rolled round the corner, three Carnales narrowing their eyes and pulling bandanas up over their faces.

"Hector says _Buenos noche_." The driver sneered, levelling an SMG at them. Suddenly, the air was filled with gunfire, the VKs and Rollerz taking cover where they could, the two that weren't hit drawing their weapons and returning fire. The Carnales tried to speed away, but the Roller who had run before came racing back, drawing his gun and firing at the car. A bullet found the driver's head, exploding out the front of his skull and spraying the windshield with blood and brain. The car turned sharply and headed towards me, swerving at the last second and crashing into a wall. The engine starting to smoke, then a few small flames flickered from beneath the hood. A Carnale coughed and groaned, pulling himself from the wreckage and laying on the ground, trying to pull himself up.

As suddenly as it started the noise stopped. I found myself on the ground, frozen in shock. The Roller sauntered up to the car, levelling his gun and firing, only to have the last standing VK shoot him in the head from behind. His body crumpled forwards in front of me, and I looked up to the VK, who was now approaching me, lifting his gun to my face. I looked up the barrel, up his arm to his face and couldn't deny it any more. The same chocolate skin, smooth features, clean shaven head, black eyes. I felt my face crease into a scowl.

"You…" I barely breathed. Whether he heard me or not, recognised me or not, didn't matter.

"Wrong time, wrong place bitch." He spat, cocking his gun.

I slammed my eyes shut and heard a shot. But no impact, no pain. I blinked my eyes open again, staring at the VK, now face down on the pavement, a crimson pool spreading from a gunshot wound in his back.

"You ok playa?"

I looked up to the voice, deep and soothing, steady. The man was middle aged, black, and dressed a little too well for the Row. His shirt was a bright shade of purple, just like the guy standing behind him. I racked my brain – red was Los Carnales, Blue, Rollerz, and Yellow Vice Kings.

Purple, I recalled, were Saints. Some small time bangers from The Row without any real foothold, the only reason I was remembering the name was because it was such an ironic one.

But as I looked at the man who was now reaching down to offer me a hand, to lift me up to my feet, the idea of being a Saint did not seem so ironic.

"Julius, let's move," the guy standing behind him said. He looked weirdly clean cut to be in a gang, but as I noticed the smoking gun in his hand, I realised he must have been the one who saved me.

I reached up and took Julius' hand, only just realising the pain in my leg as he pulled me up and let me lean on him as we hobbled away. The car behind us finally caught fire and as quickly, the engine exploded, blasting a shockwave at my back. We didn't move far before Julius gingerly sat me down against a wall, and I finally looked at my leg, seeing the torn fabric and blood starting to spill. As soon as I noticed it, the pain began and I realised with a wave of panic I must have been shot.

"That doesn't look so bad, you should be fine," Julius said. I must have looked pale, but looking down at my leg again I realised the wound was actually just a nick – the bullet had only grazed me.

"That's Troy," Julius continued, nodding to the man standing behind him, "You can thank him later."

"Hey," Troy greeted with a small nod.

"The Row ain't safe no more girl." Julius continued, drawing my attention back to him, "We got gangs fightin' over shit that 'aint theirs, and if you get in the way, they don't care if you representin' or not."

I blinked. His heavy hand on my shoulder was reassuring, and his words were actually hinting of concern. I couldn't remember the last time someone had worried about me, and this guy was a total stranger. _'He wants something from you'_ a dark voice warned in the back of my mind. So had a lot of people, but they'd never tried to help me before.

"Julius, this is no time to be recruiting." Troy urged. Julius scowled and looked over his shoulder to Troy.

"We need all the help we can get son." He fired back.

"No, we need to get our asses out of here."

"In a minute!" Julius commanded. He again turned his attention to me. "Look, the Row's got a problem. Come to the church if you want to be a part of the solution."

He gave me a reassuring pat on the shoulder and stood, striding away. He seemed so… regal. It was no surprise people were answering to him. My eye caught Troy's – he was giving me a weird look, concern maybe, or pity. He turned on his heel and followed Julius.

So there it was, the yes or no. Considering I had absolutely nothing to lose, my answer was obvious.

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><p><strong>Ok! next chapter should be up and ready to go soon :) <strong>


	2. First Impressions

**Trying to get these uploaded regualrly, most of the chapters for SR1 are actually finished, so getting them out of the way so I can start on SR2 fics :)**

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><p><em>When I looked to Julius, I saw him as the noble criminal, a man fighting fire with fire. He was a leader in all aspects, instilling not fear, but respect and trust in every Saint. He was stern, but he was good to us. Better, of course, if we did well. Which I guess is how I so quickly rose through the ranks to, in the end, be his right hand. I fought well, for him. I'd jump buildings, take lives, and bring the gangs of Stillwater to their knees. For him. Yes, I had everything to gain here, and gain I did, but I never would have landed on this course if it wasn't for Julius.<em>

Being canonised was not the best of experiences. I had always been a good fighter – I'd been doing kickboxing after school since I was a kid, so I had the moves down. My only trouble in this case was that my mass was so small, and I was generally weak and out of shape. The first three I managed to get the better of, but the fourth was a huge guy who cracked me hard in the head, sending me straight to the pavement. My ears were ringing, but I was determined. I glanced over my shoulder and kicked hard into his knee. He yelled out, dropping heavily to the ground, and I turned and kicked again, this time landing one in his face sending him back and making blood pour from his nose. That was it, all they had for me, and I grinned in triumph moving to stand.

Bad move.

My head spun and vision went dark. My legs gave way beneath me, but I never hit the ground.

"You earned your colours today," It was as if I were hearing the voice underwater. I blinked, vision beginning to clear and feet finding solid ground. Someone had me by the elbow. He was cocoa skinned and had an easy going smile. The lopsided purple visor on his head made him look much younger than he should have been.

"Never seen a bitch kick that much ass since Lin." Someone in the crowd said. I assumed it was a compliment, and eased my weight back on to my own two feet, standing steady with my chin raised.

I got that feeling again, the same one I had in the shower the night I shot Seth. The same dark smile edged at the corners of my mouth.

_Power. Strength. _You_ are in control now._

Julius stood strong at the top of the steps to the church, smiling approvingly at me. In retrospect, I can pinpoint that moment as the instant I became a sucker for Julius' praise.

Didn't need a therapist to tell me I had some father issues.

So, I was a Saint. The Saints would be the family looking out for me, the brothers and sisters who I had a duty to protect. The church was my home, my safety. Gang life was my career.

And I was the ambitious type.

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><p>It had been a few days of helping the gang clear out the Row, and running a few odd 'jobs'. But soon it was safely in Saint control – though it was not exactly a prime piece of real estate so there was not as much fighting over it as I had expected. But the small neighbourhood wasn't enough… Julius made that clear when he called a meeting the next night, and I got my official introduction to the lieutenants.<p>

We stood in the church, gathered around the altar that Julius stood in front of, alone and imposing.

'_Just like a Caesar'_ I thought, smiling at my little pun.

"Listen up people, I got some serious shit to discuss. Yeah, we cleared out the Row, you think for a second that's gonna stop'em? Unless we wipe all these muthafuckers out they gonna keep comin'. And they ain't gonna be happy. It's not gonna be settled till the Carnales, the Rollerz, _and_ the Vice Kings ain't nothing but a memory."

I blinked. This was bigger than I thought. Though tearing apart the VK seemed like a pretty enticing idea. _'I could find them, the last two. I could make them suffer…'_

Julius then began to disperse duties amongst his lieutenants. Dex, the guy with the purple visor who'd helped me to my feet after being canonised, was put in charge of Los Carnales, a smart move on Julius' part.

My first impression of Dex was pretty accurate; He was not so much easy going as he was sensible and level headed in a way no other Saint was. His approach to the Carnales would not be Johnny's 'Walk in and Shoot Anything that Moves' or Lin's 'Fuck'em up as you go'.

Dex's corner of the church was covered in maps, plans, profiles and a mind map of connections. He was clearly much smarter and more pragmatic than he seemed. I'd often wondered how he managed to fall in with the Saints, but his similar mentality to Julius made me think he may have been related to him. Chances were I was just reading into that too far.

Julius had originally wanted to put Troy in charge of the Vice Kings – I was happy enough with the idea; Troy had been there to save me that night, I felt I wouldn't have trouble trusting him. So his response to our leader rattled me a little.

"Not a chance." He said, blowing a plume of cigarette smoke. Julius did a double-take.

"_Fuck_ you say?"

"Anyone but them." Troy continued, showing an amazing amount of cool.

"Man, fuck that, _I'll _take King out." I turned to look at the speaker – I recognised him from the day I'd been canonised.

Johnny Gat. I didn't know it then but Gat would become the best friend I'd ever had.

He was a mad mixture of youthful brashness and sarcasm, with an insatiable thirst for danger to boot. His sharp, hard, east-Asian features were softened by a thin layer of puppy fat and I figured there was no way he could have been much older than me, landing him in the early twenties at most. He constantly sported silver rectangular shades and I realised there was a good possibility he was actually short sighted, which might have accounted for his shitty haircut, but I couldn't be one to judge.

Regardless, he was quite canny and would turn out to be one of the bravest, baddest people I'd ever know. Dex would mention there was a thin line between bravery and insanity, but Johnny strolled along it quite happily.

And then there was Lin, the only chick lieutenant, strolling in among us, dressed in blue and ready to act undercover in the Rollerz at Julius' request. From the moment I saw her break a guys jaw for calling her a ho I knew she was the kind of girl I could look up to, the kind of girl I wanted to be. She was ambitious, irreverent, and understood that for a woman to make it anywhere, even in the underworld, she had to have bigger balls than any man she's up against _or_ working with.

Julius looked through the crowd, speaking;

"As soon as we're done here, talk to one of these guys," he said, then his gaze fell directly on me. I watched back intently, "They'll have something for you to do." He raised his hands to his Saints,

"It's our time now, let's get this shit started!"

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><p><strong>Reviews are always appreciated!<strong>


	3. First Mission

**I know I said I'd avoid transcripts, so hopefully this one isn't too bad**

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><p>As soon as I heard Gat was in charge of ripping the VKs a new asshole, I was making a beeline for his 'office'. Personal grudges got the better of me, it seemed. Dex leant against a pillar in the corner, offering me a smile as I walked in. Johnny was reclined back in a chair behind a desk I'm pretty sure was only for show. He gave me a sly smile as I walked in.<p>

"Take a seat," he was coolly. I drew up the chair and turned it around, straddling it and facing him. His smile broadened.

"So, you're Julius' new girl. You don't look like much. But then, I don't look like I got an eight inch cock so I guess we're both full of surprises," he said, congratulating himself with a wry smile which I couldn't help but mirror– I knew well enough he wasn't trying to hit on me. Gat didn't waste time, quick to familiarise me with the situation.

"The Vice Kings are named after one guy, Benjamin King, and that shit don't happen unless you're a professional, or a badass, and in King's case he's both." He paused as his phone buzzed. "Hold on, I gotta take this." He said, an interesting look crossing his face as he read the name on the caller ID. "_Aisha_, what a pleasant fucking surprise. Whoa, whoa whoa! Slow down-" he yanked the phone away from his ear, "Ok that's not slower, that's louder… Shit! Where's she headed? …Don't worry, I got this." He clicked his phone off, the cool-as-anything look vanishing in an instant. I blinked at him expectantly.

"What's up?" Dex asked, taking a step or two towards him.

"Some muthafukas grabbed Aisha's sister right off the street."

Dex frowned, not as quick to fury as Gat. "Shit man, that's the sixth girl this month. You know who's doin' this?"

Gat stood, thunder in his eyes, ready for action "Yeah, the Vice Kings."

"No way man, kidnapping 'aint King's style." Dex replied, shaking his head. Johnny shot him a look.

"Maybe it's Tanya goin' behind King's back, don't know, don't fucking care." He turned his focus to me, "Now Aisha said they were drivin' a yellow sedan. Tail those sons'a bitches and get those girls back!" he yelled, slamming a fist into his desk then turning and abruptly left.

I stood and watched him striding into the church and yelling at some of the boys to get their guns – I wouldn't put it past him to tear the Row apart looking for those girls.

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><p>I felt a wave of nerves as I first spotted the Vice King's car and started trailing it – he was driving fast and taking shortcuts, and I found myself having to take more risks with my driving than I was comfortable with (luckily this concern faded within a week or two and things like 'speed limits' and 'road signs' were no big issue for me)<p>

Eventually he pulled up outside a warehouse; he jumped out, yanked the rear door open and pulled a girl out by the hair.

I snarled, and my hands gripped the steering wheel till my knuckles turned white. This was bringing back bad memories. I felt a surge of inspiration from Lin, of all people. Those _fuckers_. Taking girls and selling them like fucking property. My mind swam with images of those asshole pimps smacking hookers around, and Seth… I gritted my teeth.

_What he did to me…_

Ripping my seatbelt off, throwing the door open, I grabbed my shottie from the back seat, striding to the door, feeling a weird darkness circling me. Adrenaline burned through my veins. And with a force that no one my stature should have, I kicked that door off its fucking hinges.

A guy in yellow stood in front of me, and raised his pistol. I wasn't thinking, I barely saw myself move as I cocked the shotgun and fired, a blast of pellets slamming into his body and knocking him down. I heard shouts form further inside and finally my mind began to clear.

_Save the girls._

I dropped to a crouch as a few stray bullets sailed past me, quickly re-loading and creeping forward. I turned, and then jumped from behind the shelves protecting me to fire on the next VK I saw, dropping behind shelter again. One of the VK's yelled a name, probably belonging to the person I just shot. I replied by peering over a box and aiming the shotgun at his head. Boom.

I listened, but only silence greeted me. Finally I stood and hunted through the warehouse to the office at the back, reaching out to turn the handle. Locked, of course.

"Hey," I said banging on the door. No answer. "Girls, uh, Aisha's sister! Where's the key to get you out?"

There was a plethora of hushed voices behind the door before one spoke up.

"The guy with the key went to TnA!"

I nodded to myself. I heard them calling after me but I was already running. I leapt back in the car, taking off to the strip club.

'_Fucker'_ I thought again.

I pulled up into the car park, coming to an abrupt stop. I forced myself to breath slowly, to clear my head. It was the middle of the day, there couldn't be that many people in there. I had already killed the driver who snatched Aisha's sister and had no idea what this other guy was supposed to look like. I shook my head, sitting the shotgun in the passenger seat and checking my .44 to make sure it was clear and loaded and stuck it down the front of my jeans, covering the handle with my shirt then cramming two clips into my pocket. Pushing the door open and stepping out, I took the steps to the club two at a time.

Inside was smoky and dark, even for the middle of the day. I narrowed my eyes and scanned the room – in the far corner my attention was caught by two bright yellow shirts. Between the two sat a guy in a grey sports coat wearing a yellow collared shirt beneath.

I started over, not taking my eyes off the enemy. In retrospect this might have been a mistake if I was trying to seem inconspicuous. One of the VK's turned to laugh at something his friend said, and from the corner of his eye saw me, and my bright purple tank top, a black glare across my eyes. The smile faded and he sat up straighter, watching me and causing the other two to turn around.

When he saw me, the fucker in the middle reached for his gun (clearly more aware than the other two). Dropping to one knee I pulled my own gun and squeezed the trigger quickly. I missed, but it shocked everyone else; anyone not wanting to involve themselves in a gun fight dropped to the ground or dived out of the way. I quickly fired again, trying to concentrate on my aim and take them out as quickly as I could. I heard the high pitched whistle as a bullet flew by me, and ducked behind a booth, jutting out to fire again. I shot one in the chest, another in the knee, who in his panic dropped to cradle his injury.

I aimed again and tried to fire, only to realise I'd miscounted my ammo. I heard the guy in the blazer swear as he fumbled to reload his own gun, and I took my chance, leaping up and running to him. Time seemed to slow as I reached him and saw him snap the new clip into place on his gun. I planted my left foot and felt my hips pivot as I rounded a kick to his head. He reached up and aimed a shot, pulling the trigger. I felt the small wave as the bullet sailed past my thigh and aimed right for my shoulder, just as my leg landed a heavy kick head and something heavy hit me on the arm. He fell backwards, stunned. I knelt down, rummaging his pockets and finding a set of keys, doing the same to the other two guys.

The screams and yells that were piercing the air were abating, and instead I heard a desperate voice from behind the bar. I glanced up and narrowed my eyes – some guy was on the phone, undoubtedly to the cops.

I got to my feet, starting for the door. They'd be here soon, and if it wasn't the cops, it'd be Vice King backup. Twirling the keys on my fingers, I crammed them in my pocket.

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><p>I've never forgotten the myriad of emotion that played across the girl's faces when I opened that office door. Aisha's sister was comforting another girl and looked up to me, wide eyes, then gave me a huge smile. The other girls didn't recognise me as quickly. There faces melted from fear to confusion, to relief.<p>

"We need to go." I said bluntly. Mutely they nodded and followed me, one of the girls swearing under her breath as she stepped over a fallen King. She reached down and grabbed his gun, snarling.

I gave a wry smile, _'a new Saint is born'_

We piled into the sedan, tyres screeching as I raced to get them back to the church. It wasn't an easy drive – the heavy impact I'd felt on my arm at TNA had turned out to be the bullet, not just a graze but a hard hit. I'd tied a bandana over my arm but the pain was starting to make it numb, and my head felt a little light. I drove on anyway, steering with one hand, or occasionally with my knees when I needed to change gears. Behind us, a yellow car screamed around the corner, opening fire on us and shattering the back windshield. I swore, quickly turning around and aiming my gun through the now cleared rear window, the two girls shrieking and ducking out of the way.

I fired a shot, turning to look back at the road quickly and swerving to avoid a head-on collision. The girl riding shotgun gritted her teeth and cocked her stolen gun, leaning out the window and firing, yelling at the men in the car behind her. I wondered if I looked as vicious when I was in a rage. She must have got the driver or a tyre at least, because the car behind us swerved, then ran off the road into a light post. She kept yelling joyously at them, throwing as many insults as she could. As she settled back in her seat, her bloodthirsty joy managed to lighten the mood somewhat and ease the other girl's fears – Aisha's little sister gave a nervous giggle as we pulled up to the safety of the church.

I sat down with the girls in some of the pews that had been moved to a half-circle. A handful of Saints came over and offered them beers to steady nerves – I downed a half in a few full gulps then pressed the cold glass against my arm.

"Yo, where are they?"

I glanced up as I heard Johnny come striding through the crowd. He quickly scanned the four of us.

"Tia!" he said, making a beeline for Aisha's sister. She gave a small smile of familiarity as Johnny put a heavy hand on her shoulder. "You ok? Don't worry, I'ma drop you off home to Eesh soon, ok?"

"Thanks Johnny, I'm alright." She said, then turned to beam at me. I gave a half hearted smile and nod. Johnny looked over to me with an approving smile which quickly vanished when he saw me holding my arm.

"Shit, what the fuck did you do?"

He strode over and pulled the beer away, starting to undo the bandage.

"OW! Fuck!" I swore; the sudden, fresh jolt of pain made me realise that he was no nurse – I yanked my arm away, feeling my head go light again from the pain.

"Jesus, don't be such a fuckin pussy." He said, pulling out a knife to cut the bandana away. I merely gritted my teeth and glared at him. I heard a Saint behind me hiss as he leant forward to inspect the wound which was starting to slowly flood with blood.

"Daaamn… through and through, you want me to get Jamal on that?"

"Yeah," Johnny said with a sullen nod. I felt his eyes on my face. "That's no problem, we'll get it patched in no time."

'_Why does everyone say it's no problem whenever I've been shot?'_ I thought with a pout.

Gat turned and indicated to Tia, who stood to follow him, wringing her hands.

"You did good today, I'll let Julius know." Gat mentioned over his shoulder as he led Tia away.


	4. First Confidence

**Wow. I have to say a huge thankyou to my reviewers, but in particular, JoeEngland!**

**It's often been a concern of mine to just keep going over stuff that has already happened in the game that everyone is familiar with - and by the time I got your review, I'd already finished the second drafts of the rest of the chapters. But you did inspire me to go back and see what I could add or alter, and I've even started toying with my SR2 fic, hopefully it will be a great improvement on this one!**

**So, without further ado, my next chapter :)**

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><p>It was a slow afternoon – I'd been on the DL for a few days after blowing up the Kingdom Come Records building (a classic example of what Johnny considered 'subtelty'). I hadn't realised when Gat had mentioned 'Aisha' he had actually meant the hip hop superstar, not just a local girl with the same name. I smiled – he wasn't too pleased about her moving on up in the world, but then, you would have to be blind deaf and dumb not to see there was something going on between them.<p>

I took a drag on my cigarette, leaning forward on my knees, sitting on the grimy steps of the church. Years ago, the Third Street had been a pinncale of neat and comfortable inner-city living. But after a resecssion and the expansion of the northern island of Stillwater it had devolved, property values dropping till it became a refuge for the poor and forgotten. Too close to Shivington, the projects and the industrial area, within a decade the Row lay forgotten. And in it's heart, the church stood tall, architecture once revered now smeared in graffiti. I didn't mind it - churches were supposed to be a sanctuary, and for me, that's what this place was. Hell, one of those large tags was my own art. I'd often heard locals commenting with disdain at the disgrace on the church but I couldn't bring myself to see it that way. I was never religious, so I couldn't be offended for them. But this church, this neighbourhood, was my home. And when you lived in the Row, Saint or not, you were a part of it. It was an unspoken law in the Saints that anyone living threre was protected. You didn't steal from the shops, you didn't hurt anyone local. And you protected them from the outsiders.

I exhaled, watching the orange afternoon light glint through the smoke. I'd never really smoked much before, it was more of a social thing I'd try when I was drinking. But I hadn't done a line in nearly a month now and I figured a couple of cancer sticks a week was a fair trade in addictions. Cocaine, pfft. I'm pretty sure whatever Seth had been feeding me was harder and dirtier than coke.

I paused when I thought his name. His face flashed in my mind again, the bullet hole where his eye should have been now seemed larger and darker in my memory, consuming half his face.

I'd been thinking on Seth with more frequency lately, and I know what had triggered it.

The day I had dropped Aisha off at the KC Records, with a car laden with explosives, I saw one of them. One of those _bastards_. He'd been walking the street with another VK, but this one was unmistakable. The pale eyes, black goatee and the huge crown tattoo around his arm.

Before I knew it my hand was wrapped aorund the butt of my gun with the full intention of putting a bullet between his eyes, and it took every ounce of my self control not to. It was the first time I'd actually felt an urge to kill someone in cold blood - I wasn't running or fighting or trying to protect someone or defending myself. It was just icy cold revenge.

But this was a carefully laid out plan – I couldn't let my personal vendettas get in the way. Instead, I took out my phone, aiming the camera for him as he approached, and quickly snapped as many photos as I could without him noticing. Once the job with Aisha was done and I was back in the Row, I got the photos printed and blown up to A5's, pinning them to a corkboard in the passage through to Gat's office. I didn't want to forget that face.

I unfroze quickly, shaking my head free of those thoughts and hastily drawing a last deep breath through the cigarette, flicking the butt down and stubbing it out under my sneaker. Breathing out I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling how my arms had firmed and plumped up. Within a few short weeks, my scrawny frame had been filling out and gaining brawn, beginning to fulfil it's destiny to be as voluptuous as my mother's had been. Hell, I was already up one cup size. I know heaps of girls would probably freak about gaining weight but I was loving it – with my hair starting to grow out, every day I was looking less and less like the pathetic, shit-kicking little bitch I had been.

"Hey,"

I blinked and looked up in the amber afternoon light. A short girl was starting towards me, smiling sheepishly and waving. I lifted a hand in response when I recognised her as Aisha's little sister. She jammed her hands in her pockets as she approached.

"Sorry," she said softly, "I never caught your name,"

"You're Aisha's little sister Tia, right?" I said, deflecting the implied question, "How you and the other girls doin?"

"Oh, yeah, they're fine," she said, nodding, "And you? How's your arm?"

I lifted a sleeve to show her the stitches Jamal had set me up with. Jamal had been a private practise surgeon who got some jail time over an assault against some guy who was boning his wife and consequently, lost his business. The Saints were more than happy to pay him cash-in-hand for any work he could do for them.

"It's no problem." I said truthfully; my pain threshold was increasing every day. Tia nodded, letting a short silence fall.

"Hey, uh, you doin anything tonight? Eesha's sending me to Steelport to live with mom and dad. They don't know she's… well, you know, they think she's… dead, but Eesha doesn't want me stayin in this city. So, we're havin' a little send off. Just a place in Chinatown, no where special or where she'd get noticed or, you'd get noticed… if, you know, you'd wanna come?"

I'll admit, I waited for the punch line. Aisha, multi-platinum recording star wanted to go to some teahouse with an eighteen year old scrub from the Row?

Then I remembered I saved her baby sister from becoming a sex slave and allowed myself to be pinned for her elaborate fake death, so it suddenly didn't seem too far fetched.

"I could be up for that," I replied.

* * *

><p>I pushed the door open to the Teahouse – it was Mr Wong's place, so I was pretty certain I wouldn't get pulled up about anything in here (considering all the 'problems' I was taking care of for him). Still, I'd done my best to look nice – my cleanest pair of jeans and a black camisole.<p>

I scanned the teahouse, spotting Tia and Eesh in a booth up the back. I don't know why I had been expecting more people – everyone save a handful of people on earth thought she was dead. As I started over, Aisha spotted me, smiling warmly and waving me over. I suddenly wished I had borrowed something nicer to wear from one of the other girls – Aisha might have dressed for comfort day to day but whenever she was going out, it was obvious how much she had made at Kingdom Come, even if they were ripping her off left right and centre. This time it was a perfectly fitted white dress and cropped blazer. I didn't know anything about labels but I knew enough to feel sheepish wearing the bit's I'd gotten from _On the Rag_ and _Leather and Lace._

But the open and warm welcome the sisters gave me soon set me to ease, and I slipped into the booth, letting Aisha pour me a drink from the very expensive bottle she'd had set on the table.

* * *

><p>We settled into talking easily, and I soon got to know the sisters pretty well. Tia was cheerful and excitable, and clearly very proud of her older sister. Aisha was surprisingly down to earth and very sweet, if a little talkative. That suited me fine; I wasn't much of a talker. She spoke passionately about her music, proudly of her sister and fondly of her past (I had to suppress a smile when she mentioned Gat and quickly changed the subject). We'd soon worked our way through nearly three bottles of champagne and a plate of Cantonese tea-cakes, and the discussion turned to the gang life. Eventually, Tia bit her lip and and leaned forward.<p>

"So… who was your first?" she asked me, wide eyed, cheeks flushed from the wine like the rest of us. I blinked, not wholly certain what she was referring to.

"Tiana!" Aisha hissed, nudging her. I raised my hand.

"It's cool," I said. Aisha leant back, giving me an apologetic smile. A short silence had fallen on the table.

"My first what, Tia?" I asked. She fidgeted.

"You know, the first person you…"

"Fucked?" I asked with a smile. Aisha snorted a laugh of surprise into her drink and Tia burst into a fit of giggles.

"No, no, not that." She managed to compose herself. "The first person you… shot."

She wanted to say killed, I know. I chewed a fingernail and glanced to Aisha.

"Girl, you don't have to answer that," she said to me, then added "If you don't want,"

But weirdly, I wanted to. It could probably be the bottle of champagne swimming in my veins but still, I wanted to.

"Ok," I said, taking a breath like I was about to plunge into the ocean. "First person was my first boyfriend." I said bluntly, leaning back and taking a sip of my drink. Aisha blinked; Tiana gaped.

"He had it comin." I added, as if to make an excuse for murder one. Tia edged forward, eyes wide, hungry for me to continue. Aisha moved forward a little too, but her expression was different – it was reading into me the way her naive little sister couldn't. Suddenly, I needed to talk about him. Someone needed to know what happened to me.

"He was my kickboxing instructor when I was in high school. I thought he was the finest thing I'd ever met," I had to laugh at that, I'm not sure why. "I'll save you the sob story about the abusive parents, suffice to say it was easy for him to convince me to move here to Stillwater with him nearly a year ago." I paused as I thought on how to continue.

"He had a… an addictive personality. He had debts. Some were to the Vice Kings."

Aisha became very still.

"I mean… he changed over time. I was young and stupid and infatuated like only a high school girl could be. I didn't want to see it. Some guys, VK, come knocking on the door one day and… anyway. Se- my ex didn't have the money so he managed to… _negotiate_ a deal with them." I said, trying not to stumble over his name. "Two nights later I was drinking a glass of OJ and passed out."

As I said the words the images began to flash back into my mind… groggily coming round to see them over me, my numb body barely feeling them ripping my clothes off, each taking payment in turn. Each face became clear and ugly in my mind's eye. The black guy with the bald head appeared to me with blood over his face… _he_ was dead. Two left to find…

I was rattled from my reverie by Aisha's hand on my own, squeezing tightly, her large dark eyes shining and lips pursed into a restrained grimace. She understood.

Tia was looking back and forth between Eesh and me, confused.

"The VK took the debt out on me." I said for Tiana, for once not being blunt, "Two nights later Seth and I got into a fight and… I shot him."

I let my shoulders drop after that. It wasn't nice to relive, but it felt good having let it out to _someone_. I had to break the mood and looked up at them levelly.

"But, you know if you tell anyone this I'll have to kill you." I said, arranging my face into a cocky smile. Both sisters responded, Tia's smile nervous, Aisha's sad.

"Ladies," announced a familiar voice.

"I see you girls started early,"

Dex and Gat had arrived and strolled over to the table, completely oblivious to the heavy air around us.

"You're _late._" Tia took the liberty of informing them.

"Sorry Tia, had some stuff that needed taking care of." Gat responded.

I heard Aisha sigh as she observed Gat.

"You couldn't have changed your shirt?" She nagged.

"You bought me this one." He replied with his usual irreverence.

"It's got a god damn bloodstain on it." She said with some exasperation. Gat glanced down his torso, decorated with directional blood spatter.

"Well, look at that."

Aisha looked away, trying to look annoyed, but I saw the laugh curl at the corner of her mouth. Gat crashed down in the vacant seat next to me, smiling broadly at her. Dex just shook his head, "What're we drinking?"

"Verve." Eesh responded, casual as anything. Gat and Dex exchanged a glance.

"Beer it is." Dex said.

As Eesh and Dex began talking, Gat had leant in to me, lowering his voice.

"Got something for you back at the church," he said, "Present for helping Eesh out."

I looked at him quizzically, but he didn't elaborate. So we both relaxed back, determined to enjoy Tiana's last night in Stillwater. My curiosity could wait.

* * *

><p><strong>Ok then! Editing the next chapter, it should be up soon<strong>


	5. First Revenge

**Chugging along quite happily now. At the moment there's only two more chapters after this, then I'll probably start my SR2 branch. Anyways, enjoy!**

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><p>We stumbled into the church in the early hours of the morning – the skyline to the east was already beginning to lighten. Aisha and Tia had already gone back to her place so Tia could rest up before travelling to Steelport, so it was just Dex, Gat and me. Though we were all less-than-sober, Dex had hit the bottle pretty hard by comparison.<p>

"Yo Jjohnny," Dex slurred, "Show'r what wegot 'er." He pointed to me, "You'llike this'n, truss me."

I stumbled, trying to get my eyes to focus and smiling.

I felt Gat land a heavy arm over my shoulders, swaying slightly. "This way." He said, steering me towards his office, tripping over… something, on the floor. Dex landed himself face down on a pew and fell right asleep.

I blinked again, trying to focus. As Gat moved me into the small room and flicked the light on, I saw something very odd. A guy was sitting in Johnny's chair, in the middle of the room. Actually, a guy was _tied_ to Johnny's chair. A guy in a bright yellow basketball jersey. Suddenly I stopped walking. The same pale eyes, goatee, and fucking crown tattoo. I stumbled backwards.

"The _fuck?_" I managed. I felt Gat's warm hand around my own, pressing the butt of a gun into my palm.

"Couldn't help notice the photos you put up on the board." he said simply. "Don't know why you're after him, but he's yours if you want it."

He moved backwards, wobbling only slightly as he leant against the wall. I stood still for a moment, looking at the man in the chair and then slowly, cautiously, took a step forward. There was a gag in his mouth, and he was bleeding from the head. He groaned, eyes squeezing further shut in the light before he slowly lifted his gaze, squinting at me. We stared at each other for a while, and I watched his expression melt from confusion, to recognition, to fury and fear. He tried to yell through the gag and jolted, attempting to break free of the restraints. I tilted my head and was reminded of something odd.

When I was a girl, I had a cat that had a nasty habbit of catching cockroaches and rodents. She'd smack them with her paws, letting them run from her, thinking they were free before pouncing again, claws or sharp teeth attacking just enough to hurt or disable, but never kill. Again and again, she'd torment the small creatures, drawing out their deaths, her yellow eyes rolling in her head with joy.

I could feel my own claws coming out. A small smile curled onto my mouth.

"You remember me, don't you?" I murmured to him, almost inaudible.

He tried to speak, his tone was angry, threatening. I tilted my head. Reaching around to loosen the gag, I tugged the fabric free.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that," I said. He spat out the loosened gag and snarled at me.

"Bitch!" he spat, "_Fuck_ you bitch! When I get out of here you and those _fuckin pricks_ are dead!"

I cocked the shepherd Gat had given my and crammed it in his open mouth, pushing the barrel down into his throat till her nearly gagged. He froze, looking cross eyed at the gun and then up into my eyes.

"Look at where you are," I said quietly, "Look at _me_. Do you _really_ think _I_ would let you just walk out of here?" Impending murder was a good way to sober up quickly, I found. "Well?"

I watched the fear growing in his eyes. After a moment, I took the gun from his mouth, drew it back and whipped it across his face. He grunted, and I flew off the momentum to hit him again. He spat blood onto the floor.

"Stop!" he tried, "Look, I, I can get you stuff. You know, drugs, information, anything!"

"Somethin' tells me she's not interested asshole." Gat's dark voice purred from behind me. The Vice Kings were his job. But he didn't even consider the offer of information. This wasn't about gangs.

"You're _fucking pathetic_." I snarled at the VK, using the barrel of the gun to force him to look at me. "Cowardly piece of _shit_."

He was shaking, but then glared up at me, a dark smile curled over his lips.

"That don't change the fact I got the better of _you_, slut."

I blinked, straightening mechanically. I heard Johnny make a move from the wall behind me so I quickly aimed the gun at the VK's head. Johnny stopped moving. This one was _mine_. I saw terror quickly flash across the VK's eyes when he thought his life was ended.

Suddenly my hand dropped as I shot him, blowing his dick and nuts right off his body. He gave the most blood curdling, satisfying scream I'd ever heard. Behind me I heard Gat swear.

I took the gag and shoved the fabric back into the guy's mouth to muffle his screeching – no need to wake up the whole neighbourhood. I released a breath and listened to Gat's slow steps forward – soon the VK slumped forward and fainted.

"Thankyou," I said softly over my shoulder to Johnny. He was quiet for a moment.

"…Remind me never to piss you off." He said, the casual tone returned to his voice. I smiled, releasing a shaking breath and running a hand through my shaggy hair.

"We can get some of the new recruits to get rid of him," Gat continued. I chewed my bottom lip. As much as I had wanted to kill him, I felt in a weird way justice was done. In some countries, if you steal, your hand is cut off. If you rape, well... This asshole was just going to have to live as a dickless freak for the rest of his life.

"Unless," I broached, "… you wanted to drop him back across the bridge." I continued after a beat, "It's a hell of a message to send."

I felt Gat smile. "Girl, I like th' way you think."

* * *

><p>Gat and I cruised through Stillwater in my car, an old Venom Classic I'd jacked and was in the process of cleaning up. I'd let Gat drive – he was much more sober than I was. Probably not enough to actually be driving, but that was a non-issue. We'd already kicked the VK out of the trunk and left him in a park in their territory. He'd be found by morning. If he bled out in the interim, big fucking deal.<p>

I inhaled the city as we cruised back over the bridge to the south island, letting the wind whip through my short hair. I didn't bother anymore to try and convince myself to feel guilty about my life. Morality seemed like nothing more than a theory. The only distinctions I could make now was what I was, and what I had become. The then and now. I glanced across to Gat – his expression was peaceful. He hadn't asked me for any details about my 'acquaintance' with that particular Vice King. Neither he nor Dex knew my motivation. They just did it. They just did something nice (albeit twisted) for me.

I gave a wry smile, thinking of them, and of Eesh and Tia. Look at that. I had friends. I hadn't had real friends like that since middle school. I gazed to the east, seeing the sun rising over the sea, the sky painted a myriad of colour.

"Hey Johnny," I said, nodding towards the horizon "Look.". He followed my gaze and raised an eyebrow.

"You sure as shit better not be gettin' sentimental wit me." He said. I could almost _hear_ his eyes rolling.

"What can I say?" I replied. "Blowing a guy's nuts brings out the romantic in me."

There was a beat before I realised what I had said. Gat gave me an incredulous look, and we both erupted into laughter.


	6. First Loss

**So thankyou again for the reviews; these chapters sort of leap through the rest of the game a bit, we'll be hitting SR2 soon, which I'll probably start a new story for, so I'll post the link.**

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><p>I woke to total blackness, the back of my head aching, and my hair matted with something slick. Ugh, blood. That Roller asshole was going to pay for this. I felt Lin curled up by my feet, and judging by the soft rumble of an engine I gathered we were in a trunk.<p>

Fan Fucking Tastic.

The scent of the trunk was sharp and acrid – gasoline. Lin shifted uneasily next to me, trying to keep her breathing steady.

"Hey, I think we stopped moving," she said quietly. I stayed silent, trying to listen for any outside noise. "Are you listening?" She continued, "Are you even _alive_?" I gritted my teeth and gave her a small kick.

"Ow! I'll take that as a yes… urgh, where the fuck's my lighter? Look, stay calm, we're gonna get outta this,"

I felt her fingers brush mine and my breathing slowled - I hadn't realised how quick and shallow it had been, betraying the fear I was trying so hard to control. I looked round sharply as I heard the trunk lock click – it swung open and standing over us was Donnie and Mr Sharp. I snarled at him. Donnie gaped.

"Lin!" he yelped, moving to her.

"Donnie! Listen to me I swear to god-" she yelped, brilliant actress as ever. She was silenced by a deafening shot from Sharp's gun, which before I knew what was happening, was turned on me. It erupted again and I felt the red-hot barbed wire sensation rip through my side and I gasped. I barley heard Donnie screaming Lin's name as Sharp tried to placate him.

"Take a deep breath and count to ten,"

"_Count to ten?_" Donnie shouted back, "You just shot my _girl_!"

"Yes, it's tragic," Sharp said turning and _goddamn smiling at me_. I wanted to leap from this trunk and rip his lips off. But I knew I didn't have the strength to overwhelm him, and there was a good chance he'd put one between my eyes if he thought I could fight back. He slammed the boot closed, plunging us both back into darkness. Outside I could hear them talking, Donnie near hysterical and Sharp telling him to help push the car.

Shit… I could tell where this was going. I heard Donnie leave, his car screeching off. That little shit. If he actually cared about Lin and wasn't such a fucking coward he could have done something. That _little goddamn shit!_

The car started slowly rolling again then jolted – suddenly I felt a wave of inertia and knew the car was dropping – inside the trunk Lin and I were thrown around and inverted – the car must have flipped as it hit the water.

"Stay calm," Lin said, forcing her voice to be steady even as water began gushing in around us, "We're gonna… get outta this… I think I found my lighter…" I could hear her voice failing, rattling. "You hear that asshole Donnie," she said with a weak laugh, "Called me his girl."

I gave a shuddering laugh without any heart – my hand searched in the darkness for hers, and gripped it tightly.

_Lin_, I thought desperately, _hold on…_

She squeezed my fingers back, but then, her grip slackened, and I heard her exhale. I nudged her body.

"Lin?" I whispered. She didn't respond, didn't move. A wave of panic washed over me.

"LIN!"

My breath came hard and fast, more and more water began pouring in over us. No! No I was _not_ going down so damn easy. My hands hunted the boot blindly for something, anything. I felt my fingers curl around a metal rod – crowbar, or maybe a tyre iron. I tried to slow my breathing, and got to work on the lock. I heard something break, the boot above me jolting up a little letting more water flood in. I felt the water rising up to my neck, and knew it was now or never. I drew a deep breath and submerged myself, twisting so my feet her against the trunk door, and began kicking with all my might. Finally, the boot broke free, lifting into the water. I barely had any stale air left in my lungs, the sheer weight of the water pressing in on them, trying to force the air out. Blindly, I began kicking for the surface.

My lungs screamed – it was an eternity. Blackness began to edge around my eyes, but finally, my hands broke the surface. My face hit the cold night air and I gasped, never thinking the smog of the city could ever be so sweet. I sucked in another breath, seeing it turn to fog before my mouth as I breathed out.

I was _alive_. Freezing, shot, and bleeding out into the filthy bay water, but my heart was still beating. Clumsily I began to swim for the shore, dragging myself up onto the concrete and laying still, shivering. With a grunt I turned myself over, looking up to the starry sky. My side throbbed – the icy water had managed to numb me a little. Good. I didn't need pain distracting me for what I was going to do next. My eyes trailed down to the inky black water, a few bubbles still simmering to the surface where the car lay submerged.

"Lin…" I breathed out, barely able to form the word. I couldn't let myself think on her – I had to get out of here, I had to survive, to deal with Sharp.

I pulled my top off and twisted it, wrapping it tightly around my middle, using the long-sleeves as a bandage. The cold night air stung my bare skin, but I was grateful for the way it numbed me.

I pushed myself to my feet, and started for the road, heart hammering with adrenaline. Sharp had driven Lin's car here, and was expecting a ride back with Donnie who'd left, so Sharp would've called for a ride… he can't be far off. I started for the road and jacked a car – most people would yell or chase me but when the guy saw me he practically threw himself out of the driver's seat. I must have looked like a psychotic swamp hooker, drenched, bleeding and wearing nothing but a bra on top.

I floored it towards the suburbs, livid. Lin_. Lin. _Don't worry, that bastard was going to pay for what he did to you. I knew shock would kick in any moment now so I had to act fast, eyes peeled for any sign of a Roller.

Then I saw the convoy; a blue and white car cruising comfortably between two of the Roller's electric blue 'suped up shitboxes. I snarled, swerving to overtake them and moved up next to the middle car, glancing aside briefly, seeing Sharps leathery old face spare me a shocked glance. Before he could react, I yanked the wheel, slamming my car into his. He twisted off the road, making a sharp U turn and heading south – my foot slammed on the gas and whipped the car around to chase him. His car was faster, and for a while I thought I was going to loose him, till he made the mistake of turning into the narrow streets of Chinatown. His car was heavy; it wasn't made for sharp turns. I'd jacked a Capshaw – it wasn't fast, but it was light, and whipped around the small streets easily. Sharp made a desperate turn and his car drifted, slamming into a street post and crumpling around it. I skidded to a stop and jumped out of the car, my legs nearly collapsing beneath me as I ran to the wreckage to see if he was even alive. His car smoked – then the door burst open and Sharp tipped out, crawling over the broken glass. His gaze rose to me when he heard my footsteps crunching over the glass towards him. We watched each other – his eyes were wide and incredulous, and slowly he shook his head in disbelief.

"You're like a god damn cockroach," he spat. I kicked him over and reached down to grab his gun from its holster. _Lin. He killed Lin._ He tried to fight me off but I just stomped my foot down on his chest, levelling the barrel of the gun to his face.

"Maybe." I said quietly. "Or maybe you should have just had better aim."

He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn't wait to hear what, firing the gun and landing a bullet between his eyes.

There was a long moment for silence and stillness after that – I don't know how long I stood over him for, wiping the prints from the gun on my jeans and dropping it, strangely meticulous of me.

That's the last thing I clearly remember. I have images in my mind – neon lights of streets I must have walked down, the sight of two people clad in purple racing towards me, shouting something. Being in a car, looking out the window as lights flashed past. The weird, heavy-weightlessness of being carried and familiar voices yelling. Then everything just slipped to blackness.

* * *

><p>"Any change?"<p>

"Jamal says the fever's comin down. She's stopped talking as much too. Any word on Lin?"

"… Heard a woman in Roller gear was found washed up under the south bridge yesterday. It ain't been confirmed, but…"

I shivered as the voices roused me and tried to open my eyes. I felt my throat make a sound and my lips try to shape it into a word.

"Whoa!" Two hands were suddenly on my shoulders, "Girl, you hear me?"

I pulled my eyes open, vision slowly focusing on the faces about me.

"Hey Troy," I croaked. My throat was sore and voice raspy, I barely recognised myself. Troy looked over his shoulder.

"Dex! Call Julius!"

"On it."

I felt like I was waking up with a rock star's hangover – my throat was dry, but the thought of trying to drink anything made me feel nauseated. My head ached but I couldn't bring myself to move. Troy laid a hand over my forehead.

"Gave us a real fright there girl," he said, still with that damn cigarette poised between his lips. The scent made my nose burn. He looked away, flicking ash and stubbing it out in a tray on the bedside table.

"Kids like you…" he said sullenly, "Man, you should be in school or hanging out at the mall. Not getting shot and thrown into the river."

I blinked, insulted. He was telling me to hang out at the mall like some college bum? I'd taken the Vice Kings apart, helped claim nearly all the Carnales territory for the Saints… I'd been the one working with Lin to destroy the Rollerz…

I blinked, and forced myself away from that train of thought. Back to Troy. Back to the weird look he had. His tone was strange – he sounded… well he didn't sound like Troy. Not the one I knew.

I released a breath and turned my head away; I was exhausted, reading into things that weren't there. Sleep was quick to invade my mind.

* * *

><p>I woke a while later to a hand tapping me hard across the face.<p>

"Yo! Wakeup!"

"Johnny, cut that shit out."

"Dex said she was awake and talkin,"

I groaned, opening my eyes again. The lighting in the room had changed, as had its occupants. Gat was leaning over me a little but was looking away to Julius, who stood at the end of my bed, arms folded. I parted my dry lips to speak.

"Doesn't mean I'll 'preciate bein smacked in th' face." I croaked and attempted a smile. Gat snapped his attention back betraying a look of relief, quickly replaced with a cocky smile.

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," he drawled. Julius moved to sit down next to me on the bed.

"How you feelin playa?" he asked, low voice soothing me.

"Peachy," I replied. Then I frowned. "Thirsty… where am I?"

"You at Dex's place," Julius said. Johnny turned and quickly left the room, thunking down the hall. Even with the bad knee he moved quickly.

Julius laid a large hand on my forearm.

"Hate to do this to you now," he started, "But… Lin?"

I couldn't reply – a fresh wave of pain rippled through me. All I did was shake my head, No.

Julius closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply.

"… Can you tell me anything about it?"

I swallowed carefully. "They worked it out." I started, "The pool hall – it was a trap. They caught us, stuffed us in the trun-"

My voice broke and I stopped talking – my throat felt dry and tight and I knew it had nothing to do with being sick. Julius' hand squeezed my arm gently to reassure me. I heard Johnny's heavy steps again as he came down the hall. Especially with the limp, he had all the grace and subtlety of a baby elephant. He strolled into the room, three beers in hand.

"Here," he said, handing one to Julius and offering one to me, "Sit up,"

Julius sighed, "Johnny, what the hell is this?"

"She said she was thirsty."

I cracked a smile and edged myself up onto the pillow.

Julius just shook his head. "_Water's_ whats usually recommended," he murmured, knowing Gat clearly didn't care. I reached out weakly and took the icy bottle, pouring the liquid between my lips, spilling a little. I felt it wash away my mud mouth and clear my dry throat. The room was silent for a moment. I was half expecting myself to be angry, crying over Lin. But I wasn't. I felt cold. Not numb – it still hurt to think of her – but _steely_.

"How long was I out?" I asked.

"'Bout three days," Julius said. "You lucky to be alive; Jamal didn't think you'd make it. He got you stitched up good but by then you'd lost a lotta blood, and was getting hypothermia, not to mention an infection from the bay water."

"Wasn't pretty," Gat said, staring at his bottle, "You was delirious as shit at first."

Another silence fell.

"Lin is dead." I said quietly. I'm not sure if I said it to bring Johnny up to speed or simply because I needed it said. Gat lowered his head. Julius lifted his bottle.

"To Lin." He said. We each reached up to salute her.

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><p><strong>Poor Lin. She was always one of my fav characters.<strong>


	7. Salting the Earth

**Ok! Last Chapter it is. The SR2-3 part of my fic just sort of keeps getting longer and longer and... yeah. I'm just gonna put it onto a sequel. When I publich the new story I'll throw in the link here.**

**SPEAKING OF LINKS, I've got some fiarly nice comic pages for the fanfic, so feel free to check them out!**

shadow000angel. deviantart. com/gallery/#/d4ma8g7

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><p>Stillwater was ours.<p>

The Vice Kings, Carnales and Rollerz were just like Julius said, nothing more than a memory. The Saints patrolled the streets, owning every inch of that city, ruling the underworld. Stillwater was eerily peaceful now, without gangs fighting each other for supremacy. Stillwater was a kingdom of vice, and I was the Queen, Julius' right hand girl.

It hadn't been an easy year. Johnny and I had ripped through the VK quickly, fuelled by personal vendettas. But conquering the northern island had a surprising result.

I'd knocked Tanya off the throne and found myself in her place as the authority on all the tail being sold in the city – a little unexpected, but considering how instinctively protective I was of the women, few pimps managed to get started in this city without my OK. I'd seen those assholes, collecting and selling women, getting them hooked on drugs, smacking them around and taking all the money they earned. Not now. The brothels and strip clubs thrived under my jurisdiction and the girls were kept safe. Any opposition was quickly put to the ground.

Then the Rollerz, and Lin… I still felt something inside me ache when I thought of Lin. I'd never admit it to the others, but I since that night I often had nightmares about drowning, or an undead Lin walking out of the water.

The Rollerz hadn't ever been a priority for me; I simply answered the call whenever Lin asked. Until Sharp had killed her and suddenly I was in charge of finishing them off. Like the VK, the Rollerz fell, and the Saints held the majority of the city. For the first time I was really experiencing wealth and power, and I liked it. I thought back to my childhood, pondered on what teachers said about me, that it didn't matter what career or path I took in life, I'd succeed because I was naturally ambitious. Not competitive, but (and I always gave a wry smile when I thought on this comment) that I "had a killer instinct!"

One year ago, I'd have said they were dead wrong. One year ago I had slipped far into hopelessness and forgotten who I really was, but now I felt… fulfilled. Sure, I was a career criminal, but dammit if I wasn't the best.

And I only had the Carnales left.

Their corner was drugs, and more than a few of the lieutenants were ambivalent about getting into that trade. Julius reasoned that there would always be drugs being pushed, and if the industry was under our control we could at least regulate it, like I had with my whores. Besides that, the Carnales were getting concerned about the Saints sudden eruption into power and were pushing back against us. So I did what Julius asked, went to Dex and worked to bring them down. With the power we had massed from the rest of the city, it wasn't hard to overwhelm the oldest crime family in Stillwater.

And then, it ended. The Saints ruled, to the point where even the cops were inclined to occasionally turn a blind eye to us.

However, the politicians didn't.

Julius had been arrested, or more accurately, captured. And Hughes, that _asshole_ running for mayor, had us dancing on a string to get him back.

Not anymore. We'd taken out Marshall Winslow for him but he hadn't given us Julius back – so rather than keep playing his game, Gat formulated a plan to take out his Chief of Police. The Saints were no one's bitches, a message Hughes seemed to have gotten – he'd summoned me to a party on his yacht to 'talk'. It screamed trap, but I didn't care. I would get Julius back, and force that asshole Hughes to understand who he was dealing with.

I'd never liked boats. The fact that this little reception was taking place on one made me uneasy – boats were like planes, very difficult to escape from. At least with a plane you could strap a parachute to your back but boats? I gave an involuntary shudder as I stepped down the dock, boots clacking over the wood. They were low heel – if I had to run, I didn't want to be hindered. Still, I'd done my best to look presentable – Aisha's recommendation. Like it or not, you're better off looking a million bucks if you want certain people to take you seriously. My hair was finally long enough to be styled – shaped into a trendy, shaggy bob and dyed blue black from my natural deep brown. My top was neatly fitted and elegant and I wore my one pair of fitted jeans that weren't torn or sporting spray paint or bloodstains. I exhaled as I approached the yacht. '_Do it for Julius_,' I thought, '_You need to do this to get him free_.'

At the end of the small bridge from dock to deck a burly looking bodyguard stood, bobbing with the boat. I walked slowly up the incline and onto the deck – he swept out an arm towards the bow.

"This way, miss,"

_Miss_? Seriously? I cocked an eyebrow at him and followed his indication around to the front of the yacht. Standing there in the cold moonlight was a portly man in a pinstriped suit. He had a face like a squashed frog and his hair was thinning on top. I felt something queasy slip into my stomach and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. _Danger_, my instincts whispered. I tried to shake it off.

"Your guest is here, Mr Hughes," A guard said. Hughes turned to smile at me, swirling a glass in his hand. I felt my eye twitch – champagne in a wine glass? That shouldn't have annoyed me as much as it did.

"Thanks Steven. If you don't mind, could you wait outside?" he said. I resisted the urge to point out that we _were_ outside. There was a beat as I listened to the retreating steps of the guard. He didn't go far though – close enough to be there in case (I assume) I tried to pull anything.

"I'm Richard Hughes. And it is a pleasure to meet the woman who handed me the election." He announced with much grandeur, reaching a hand to shake mine. I felt my nose crinkle and folded my arms – I was no smarmy politician, there would be no pretences here. Hughes waved his hand and smiled, skipping easily over the implied insult.

"No need to be modest, I'm serious." He continued, "There's no way I could've beaten Marshall Winslow, God rest his soul. But you made the impossible happen, and for that, I can't thank you enough."

I felt my lips purse and refused to dignify this slime ball with a response. He was sincere, but that made me uneasy. My threat level rose when he began explaining his plan now that he held office. It took me a moment to fully comprehend what he had intended to do – property in the Row was cheap, with decent investment he wanted to create something new. The scene swam through my mind – he'd buy out all the land in the Row, raise the rent on all the property, force the people out of their homes and businesses, and then level the neighbourhood. The poor from an entire quadrant of the city, forced out with nowhere to go.

Not just any people, _my_ people. My gang, _my_ Row. This revival plan was not made with the intention of helping anyone. And thanks to me, this asshole was now in a position to make it all happen. His voice shook me from my riviere.

"Before, I was just displacing poor people, but thanks to you, I'm destroying a hotbed of gang activity."

I felt my hands ball up into fists. He continued.

"As you get older, you realise there are only two types of people in this world. Race, money, gender, none of this matters. At the end of the day, you're either a winner, or a loser. The sad truth of this situation is that for me to be a winner, I have to level your neighbourhood, and salt the earth."

'_Not if I have anything to do with it.'_

My heart was starting to hammer in my chest. How would I do this? I could shoot him, but his goons would be on me like white on rice. Stab him? Nice and quiet but I'd have to get close enough without him being suspicious, make it quick so I could make my getaway. Stupid boats. Unless I managed to take out his bodyguards as well but as it turned out there were far more than I had expected – not just Steven. More of them were beginning to file in around me.

I blinked and noticed the man I intended to kill was still yammering away.

"Now, I suppose I could try to pay you off, but what's the point? You'd just say no, or in your case, stand there looking intimidating and we'd be right back to where we started." First sensible thing he'd said since I stepped on this damn yacht. "So I'd figured I cut the middle man and get to the point."

I narrowed my eyes – I was done with this douche bag, I was unimpressed, and my temper had just about reached the end of its tether.

"Good idea." I said loudly to interrupt him; there was a flash in his previously placid eyes. "So could you hurry this up? I wanna go to Freckle Bitches."

I wasn't feeling as cavalier as I sounded. My fingers were itching to grab my knife and gun, but the ten or so bodyguards standing behind me, armed to the teeth, had me torn between fight or flight.

"You're going to die here miss." Hughes said darkly. I felt my mouth pull into a grimace – he was no different to Benjamin King or Sharp or the Lopez brothers. "Make no mistake about that. But if it makes it any easier on you, I'll be sure to thank you in my acceptance speech. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a party to atte-"

Everyone's head snapped around at the sudden beeping. I knew that beeping. I'd heard it before. Time suddenly slowed around us.

_A bomb_. I felt my blood run cold and my feet move. It was the same warning beeps I'd heard from bombs I'd set myself and knew to run. My body moved without my mind, past the guards and for the railing. I leapt up, my foot landing on the railing and ready to jump.

And it blew. The roar of the explosion was deafening, the shockwave stunned me, and sent me flying through the air. Then I heard a sickening crack from inside my own skull as something blunt struck my head. Then blackness, silence.

It was the pain that brought me round. I coughed, a bubble jumping from my throat and for a brief moment I thought I was back in the river with Lin submerged in the trunk of her car beneath me. Blindly I flailed, managing to turn my body so my face was above the water. I felt a hoarse cry of pain bubble in my throat and I coughed up water. _My legs!_ Huge patches of skin up the back of my legs and on my back only felt hot at first, but then they began to burn, and then sear. This skin felt tight, it was agony to try and move, let alone swim. Blindly, weakly I splashed about in the icy water, and then felt my arm hit something hard; a large piece of debris I inelegantly flopped my torso up onto. My ears were ringing and my vision was dark, bright splotches like stars dancing in front of them.

Breathing hurt. Moving hurt, even the gentle bobbing of the water. I lifted my gaze to the burning, smoking mess that was the yacht, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Then, up through the smoke, on the wall above the dock, I saw a familiar figure. I felt a smile of relief. _Julius!_

…But he just stood there. Watching me. He wasn't calling anyone. He wasn't running for the dock to help me. The smoke began to thicken, and I saw him turn and walk away. Confusion swamped my mind. _I'm alive!_ I wanted to shout to him, _Julius, help me!_

Blackness began ebbing at the corners of my vision. The pain began to ebb, replaced by the cool comfort of the water. I parted my lips to call out to him.

"Please…"

It was barely a whisper. My vision went black, my hearing dulled further, and I slipped into nothingness.

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><p><strong>Dun Dun Duuuuunnnnnn.<strong>

**Stay tuned, the SR2 story will be up shortly! Any parting reviews would be much appreciated!**


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